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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837073">The Count</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterflowerdemon/pseuds/Shatterflowerdemon'>Shatterflowerdemon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reader inserts [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Arranged Marriage, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Character Death, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gaster dies, M/M, Other, Parent W. D. Gaster, Reader Insert, Supernatural Elements, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell W. D. Gaster, gender neutral reader, no beta we die like warriors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:13:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterflowerdemon/pseuds/Shatterflowerdemon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When your father brought up the count as a match, your interest was piqued. Count Aster cuts a flattering picture. You know he's educated, and he has never expressed negative intentions towards you. Granted, you'd never been in a room with him without three or more others. That's why your parents talked and arranged the current situation. It's a date, of sorts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reader inserts [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This turned into a multi-chaptered work when I intended a one-shot. Oops :P</p>
<p>I drew fanart below:</p>
<p></p><div class="tumblr-post">
  <p>
    <a href="https://shatterflowerdemon.tumblr.com/post/644058199806361600/the-count">https://shatterflowerdemon.tumblr.com/post/644058199806361600/the-count</a>
  </p>
</div><div class="tumblr-post">
  <p>
    <a href="https://shatterflowerdemon.tumblr.com/post/643890848392790016/another-sneak-peak-sorta-planning-to-work-on-a">https://shatterflowerdemon.tumblr.com/post/643890848392790016/another-sneak-peak-sorta-planning-to-work-on-a</a>
  </p>
</div><a href="https://shatterflowerdemon.tumblr.com/">My Tumblr</a>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You're not sure the exact date of when you became aware of Count Papyrus Aster. It's almost as if he was on your radar since the first time you'd been allowed to attend the balls in a more adult fashion. Adult fashion, as in your parents didn't parade you around before leaving you with the other children in a corner.</p>
<p>The count was the enigmatic sort, even before he earned his title. He wasn't always this stoic, but he matured more when his father died. Papyrus Aster took his title over his younger brother. Sans Aster, whom you had few discussions with, had succeeded the title and instead attached himself as an advisor. It would have been unseemly if it wasn't so easy to understand. The eldest was lethargic and was not as politically minded as the youngest. In the privacy of your mind, you decided he'd be better suited as an assassin. It was a funny but eerily fitting thought.</p>
<p>You remember your father muttering about the death of Wingdings Aster. It didn't affect you much, but you knew it was a shame nonetheless. He'd seemed an intelligent monster that had many dealings with your parents. The monster was always kind and gentle towards you whenever you interacted. Admittedly, it wasn't often you met, but he never made you feel uncomfortable. He had a fatherly presence out of the public eye, even if his words spelled neutrality. You understood that about him, even without affectionate words. You could see it in his posture that he was fond of his sons and had no passing resentful thoughts about you.</p>
<p>Your family wasn't nobility in actuality, but your father was a merchant and patron of the arts. Through his business dealings and earned a fortune, he worked his way up the social ladder. Your mother's social circle helped this process. You were born young enough to remember the construction of your manor, but not young enough to forget what life was like for commoners. You had been one, after all, even if your parents like to forget. It can't be blamed, if you had tilled fields and peddled for bread for much of your life, you think you'd like to forget it as well. That's why your parents changed their surname when they came into money. Your mother hasn't breathed your last name to you in over a decade. All of you are the Belmonts now. </p>
<p>Your father is currently predicted to be given a rise in status. That's the rumor mill for you, unable to pinpoint details but hinting towards a bigger conspiracy. Unfortunately, it coincides with the discussions of your hand in marriage.</p>
<p>You had managed to weasel your opinions into the mix. It helped that your mother was fierce in her own right. It made voicing the guidance of your intuition easy. Offhanded comments and sentiments of yours had proven correct in the past, like when you accidentally predicted a merchant being shady. He was imprisoned for wrongdoings a week and a half after. This was all very useful in pushing your agenda.</p>
<p>Your one and the only staunch rule was that your suitors were as close to your age as possible. No weird old men for you. Thankfully, your mother agreed. She'd had no problem marrying your father as a commoner. There were fewer social stresses and expectations for her back then. </p>
<p>Even now, seated across from the count, you consider him worthy of attention. His tall and intimidating features captured it ruthlessly. You weren't (and still aren't) afraid of him. True fools wouldn't realize that a cruel person isn't so because of their bone structure. It's all in your actions and intent. </p>
<p>You're more perceptive than most when it comes to intent. Perhaps that's why you befriend monsters easier than humans. One takes more work to clear from ulterior motives. Monsters and intent are bound closely together. </p>
<p>When your father brought up the count as a match, your interest was piqued. Count Aster cuts a flattering picture. You know he's educated, and he has never expressed negative intentions towards you. Granted, you'd never been in a room with him without three or more others. That's why your parents talked and arranged the current situation. It's a date, of sorts. </p>
<p>He silently sits before you, tea laden with sugar. Your cup sits warm in your palm. It's your mother's finest china. She must like your guest.</p>
<p>Your father sits further within the room. You'd expect nothing less with this being your first meeting with him as a potential suitor. Now, the question is, was this instigated by your father or Count Aster? Your mother had long left for some event or another, likely her newest portrait commission. </p>
<p>Your father gives you a searching look over his ledger. Damn, you need to say something to break this silence. You could get less formal when your father stops hovering. </p>
<p>"Count Aster, I must admit I am not familiar with you. Knowing this, I would be appreciative if you accept my sincere condolences, overdue as they are."</p>
<p>He's staring now. You're entirely aware of how stiff those words were, even if your tone was warm enough. If only this was your second or third meeting! Then you could talk a bit more freely with a guard or two in the background. </p>
<p>Count Aster was your top choice out of your father's boring suitors list. Being apart of the royal kingdom's military power must be so fascinating! You'd heard that his brother works with the Dreemurr family closely as well. The Belmont family is admittedly not powerful enough to do so. Maybe your father was so easy to go along with your wishes because of this. He's always been ambitious. A marriage between you and the count could only boost his reputation. He never had another child, as far as you know. </p>
<p>"If my memory serves, your house sent their regards at his passing, but you saying so aloud is much appreciated. Their timing is of no consequence."</p>
<p>Oh, damn. You're not getting any immediate weird feelings. The count seems genuine. Now you really must conversate with more privacy. Your father continues to work in his ledger as the two of you make mindless chatter. It's all very wax on, wax off. Discuss a recent innovation, compliment an achievement you heard from gossipy maids, accept appreciation for your family's accommodations, and so on and so on. It grows to be dreadful, and you get the impression the count wants privacy as much as you do. It's in his terse but polite smile and how his eyelights flicker from your father and you. </p>
<p>He glances at your father once more before focusing his attention on you. Count Aster stands, and his height is even more exaggerated in comparison to you. He could pick you up with ease. The thought is appealing.</p>
<p>"This has been a lovely evening. I'd be delighted if you're willing to let me seek your presence again, Mx. Bellmont," Count Aster says. His voice is buttery, and you feel it like cold sheets on a summer evening. You decide that he could make a tax book sound like poetry. </p>
<p>"The pleasure is all mine, Count Aster. I am flattered you think so of me. Stars willing, I would like to see you again."</p>
<p>Those words are the truth. The count smiles, and you know you need to pursue this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Private dinner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You eat with your parents</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah, this is going to be longer than I anticipated</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The count leaves and your parents do not speak of his calling on you until dinner. Your mother sends you 'A Look' over the private dining table. It's more intimate than the much larger one used for when there are guests. Your father has removed himself from his work and seems to be collecting his thoughts. </p><p>"How was the count's visit?" your mother asks. You consciously refrain from shrugging and mull it over. </p><p>"Well," you start, pausing to switch to your fork. Thankfully it's just you three, so you can forego fancy dining and its expectations. They don't care as long as you aren't too vulgar at the table. "His presence is welcome."</p><p>Your mother's lips quirk up. Oh no, she's scheming again. "I approve. He's a rather powerful monster, both politically and non, from what I have heard. It helps that he has manners, and I remember when he was knee-high."</p><p>An amused huff from your father. His wife's prowess and information-gathering habits amuse him to no end. "If he gets approval from you both, then I might as agree. Politically speaking, this is a wise move. Our house has been in business with the Asters for years. I dare say I have a grasp on the count's character. "</p><p>An earlier question burns in your brain. "Was today's visit arranged by the count?" Your mother looks a bit more focused now. Her eyes are piercing your father's own. So, not even she is aware? Your father lifts his fork, pointing the end of it to you in jest. He'd never do this in a professional setting. </p><p>"In truth, both of us arranged it. Word got to him that suitors were being considered. However, I can say he was vested in meeting with you. I am optimistic about a union." You try not to sputter, but your expression must be comical enough. Stars, you forgot about that!</p><p>"Dear, don't tell me you didn't think about it!" your mother laughs. It's more bark than bell, and you know you'll be getting ribbed subtly by her for weeks. Gosh. </p><p>"I- well, it's too early to think of that, isn't it?" you whip your head from your parents. Your mother is smirking, and your father's face is too neutral. </p><p>"you have a bit more time," your mother soothes. Your father's face twists. He seems conflicted. </p><p>"I am reluctant as your father, but I also know he would be good for you." 'For all of us,' he means. You aren't offended since you know your father has affection for you. He's trying to comfort you in his own way.</p><p>"Betrothal talks are likely to star eventually, dear. Prepare yourself. Bear in mind that it is not final. In the unlikely chance that things sour, we will terminate it and move on that list. Didn't you find the Canterbury boy mildly acceptable?"</p><p>Your mother is right. Betrothal means you're only entertaining one suitor; your betrothed. What is left unsaid is the potential political and financial ramifications. The count doesn't strike you as the type that would make your family's life a living hell if you ask for a termination. Then again, intuition isn't always perfect. The Canterbury's youngest is an option, but you'd rather not. His parents are pushy, and frankly, he doesn't draw your attention like the count. </p><p>You're not sure why the count is interested in you other than your family's power. Wouldn't he do better to marry upwards instead of down the hierarchy? Is it because of the rumors surrounding your father? That's unlikely. At best, he'd become an advisor for someone higher up. At worst it'd just be a large commission. If the count doesn't want you for political power, then what? Image? Company? Stars forbid an heir. Children are not for you at this moment. </p><p>The rest of the meal goes smoothly. It seems that your parents had picked up on your anxiousness and graced you by dropping the topic. You've only had one visit with him, and here your parents are discussing contracts! It is unfortunate that you should have expected this. Even if your parents care for you, they're still held up to expectations as much as you are. If he's truly terrible you'll figure a solution out. One that doesn't involve damages to your family. </p><p>You didn't build this prosperity and you'll be damned if you wreck it. The social gossip would be a nightmare on its own. When is the word to get out about the count's visit, anyways?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Letters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You receive a letter from the count</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The word gets out about the count's visit sooner than you expected. Your father gets a missive from Lord Canterbury that makes him so furious he burns it. He lets you know that there's one less suitor option for you. Given his mood, you don't inquire about the details. It isn't a huge loss as you still have the count and one other on the list you had made. If things became strained with those suitors, then you'd have to drop your standards. You secretly refuse to. </p><p>You've become rather fond of your skeletal suitor. In the days past the initial visit, you've exchanged letters with the count. You've found that he speaks earnestly to you in these letters. It being privy to you and him alone aids this. Your parents inquire about your exchanges and trust your word. There is no reason to lie about the current state of affairs. He's charming but not in a false way. </p><p>It is rather fortunate that the count's current residence is close enough for his messenger to only require one stint to arrive at your manor. You wonder if he's in his main house or not for his bird to take less than a day for travel. Count Aster's messenger hawk is a dashing fellow named Rowan. He's an intelligent and polite bird. You're excited when you see said bird glide over the trees near your estate. Right as you expected him. You unlatch the window and swing it open. Rowan flies closer, and you step back. Your messenger bird Colette coos from her perch. Near it sits the sturdy perch you had started leaving out for Rowan. The aforementioned bird makes slowing wingbeats as he settles on your window sill. </p><p>"Hello there handsome," you coo. Rowan tilts his head back as if preening. You take the rolled-up letter from his leg and allow him to enter the room. The bird takes advantage of the water and food you had left out for his arrival. The letter is quickly unrolled, carefully pressed flat by a tome, and laid out for you to read. </p><p>The paper itself is very elegant, made of sturdy paper that shines in the lamplight. The count's handwriting is a delicate scrawl, seemingly uppercase with fine stems arranging letters and words. A thorny border frames his words. The envelope bears his house seal in wax, a horned creature that vaguely reminds you of something you can't place. You note with fondness that the envelope is black and waxier than the letter. Most likely to circumvent potential rain. Even for his position and luxuries, the count is a blunt and straightforward man. You see this in the simplicity of his writing. </p><p>Used to his letters, you ignore the first line. It's just a sentence detailing both of your titles, a polite obligation. You can hear both of the birds making various noises in the background and ignore them. </p><p>'I hope this missive finds you well. Your features have burned themselves into my memory and make an appearance daily. In the privacy of my mind and these letters, I will readily admit that I have grown fond of you. If it is to your approval, I would like to discuss a betrothal in person. Your father has expressed interest in it, but I value your opinion on this matter. I would soon like for you and your parents to make a trip to my estate in the coming weeks. It is only polite for them to see where you will hopefully be residing in some time. Have you taken time in a garden lately? I find the flowers pleasant at this time of year. Until your next letter, Count Aster.' </p><p>He stamps the date at the end, as well as his house crest again, for authenticity. His letters are often this short as there is less pressure to fit in all of one's words when the distance is as it is. The count's honesty warms you. He never was a liar, even when you were young. If he found something irreproachable, then you'd know. He just developed more tact with age. If he wishes to discuss things in person and arrange a visit or two, then you're all for it. You have no interest in any other suitors now. The count holds all your attention. His concern for your opinion already has him in your good graces. Even with his blunt (sometimes horrifically so, as you've heard in the grapevine) nature, he shows consideration. </p><p>With haste you grab your parchment and write back, accepting his offers and mentally planning to discuss things with your parents. There's not even a slight chance they will be upset by this. If anything, they'll be relieved and supportive. You know they worry about your future, even with your skills and good sense. </p><p>The door to the owlery glides open. The warm expression of your mother greets you. Today, she's wearing a loose gown with a broach on her chest where the silky fabric gathers. </p><p>"I see you've received another letter. From your admirer?"</p><p>Your face warms, and you place down your writing utensil. "Yes, Count Aster sends his good wishes and would like to arrange another visit soon, as well as one further along at his main estate."</p><p>She claps her hands together, and you can see her meddling nature come into play. Wonderful. "Grand news! It will put us at ease to see where you'll be staying if this works out, which it will." She sounds confident. "It's a smart move on his part and will quell any concerns we have. With him planning such a visit, I predict a betrothal!"</p><p>You resist the urge to chew on something and fiddle with the paper. "The count wants to discuss a betrothal at our next meeting." Your mother cheers and tosses her hands up in excitement. </p><p>"Fantastic! Send him our approval! I'll deliver the news to your father and have the kitchens make that tart you favor. We'll have to open the champagne."</p><p>You laugh, "isn't it too early to celebrate?" Your mother sobers and folds her arms. </p><p>"You haven't seen how he looked at you, not to mention his earnest talks with your father and me. This is just the start, darling. I dare say he'll do what he must to have your affections." She exits the owlery and clicks the door shut. "Dress up for dinner! I must reach the photographer at once," she says through the door. You listen to her rapid steps until they fade away. She's headed to your father's office, the informal one he uses without business company.</p><p>With a wistful sigh, you resume your letter. Colette churrs behind you. Optimism and hope twist in your chest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Burn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tea, letter ashes, and speculation</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Every time I start a chapter I think, 'oh this is when I'll introduce ___', and then I end up adding new details I think up on the spot, plus too much introspection. Oops.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rowan glides on the breeze. Your letter is safely in his grasp, pressed and tucked inside a leather bag. Following your mother's words, you clean yourself up and dress nicely. You can faintly hear the noises from the kitchens on your way to your father's office. Your mother is likely still trying to reach the photographer. She seems excited over this latest development. Her words circle in your mind. </p><p>The count is determined to win your affections. Would it be a mistake to wonder why? It's not that he had gone unnoticed by you, even in youth. You think back to the letter your father had burned. What had Lord Canterbury written that had angered him? Your intuition is poking at you to pay attention to these things, and you aren't someone that denies such. Are they related somehow? What would cause Lord Canterbury to write something so drastic it would cause your father to burn the letter? He had seemed enthusiastic about his son being your suitor the last you had seen him. It was just before your visit with the count. Had a business deal gone wrong caused this, or was there more to it? </p><p>Your mother is convinced the count is determined to receive your undivided attention. That much is evident based on him wanting to enact a betrothal. It isn't improbable to consider he would influence Lord Canterbury, directly or not. For such a spineless lord, even the mere word of the count seeking your hand could drive him to withdraw his son. The count is successful in many fields. His military prowess is well known. Lord Canterbury could have not wanted to risk any bad blood with Count Aster. It is common knowledge that he works closely with your country's military and government. The count is affluent.</p><p>You're very curious about Count Aster. </p><p>All things considered, you're not in a bad position. The worst thing that could happen is one (or both) of your parents die untimely, the count drops out of the 'competition,' or he pushes for your hand. All of these things are unlikely, and it soothes you. If your father dies, his business falls into your mother's hands. She's intelligent enough to run it, and you have no interest in exports. If she also perishes, then you would gather up his business advisors and partners to run it while keeping you updated. If you're already married or betrothed, then you'd conspire with that person (hopefully the count.) You cannot see the count canceling on you or forcing the issue with things as they are. Regardless, you feel secure with things as they are. In the long run, being with the count is beneficial. </p><p>Then there's the squeeze in your chest when you get a letter from him or hear him mentioned in conversation. It's not love, but it's a start. </p><p>You knock on the heavy wooden door of your father's office. He's playing one of his favorite classical records on low. </p><p>"Enter." You do, closing the door with a thud. He's pouring over various papers and books. You see the fireplace is lit. The ashes from the letter sit at the bottom mixed in with those of the firewood. The flames flicker in their confines like your father's prior controlled rage. He's swathed in a thick robe, and it worries you. </p><p>"Are you well?" you ask. The aging man before you looks up from his work. You notice the bags are more visible under his eyes today. </p><p>"As well as I can be. Your mother's tea recipe has been helping. I heard the count wants to betroth you?" </p><p>"Yes," you say before sitting in one of the chairs adjacent to his. "he wishes to discuss it soon in person. Did mother mention that he wishes for us all to visit his main estate soon?"</p><p>He nods and picks up a teacup, swirling its contents. You hope it's effective at soothing him. "You've already written to him that we accept."</p><p>"I have."</p><p>"Good. I worry about your future." He looks ten times his age when he sips from his cup. You know he isn't at his best. "Promise me something."</p><p>You want to say 'anything,' but can't make the word come out. You nod silently. One of his hands reaches for yours. He holds it in his grasp, and you notice his hand is barely room temperature. Not a great sign, but you have faith in your father. </p><p>"No matter what happens, I want you to be content. Can you promise me that you'll strive for it?" It's an easy promise, but it still jerks tears from your eyes, even if they don't spill. The mood is somber, and you don't like it.</p><p>"I will, promise." He smiles and pats your hand once more before withdrawing. </p><p>"Good, I look forward to the wedding." You bluster. </p><p>"Father!"</p><p>He laughs, and it's voracious, "Count Aster is not one to dawdle! I can tell he's earned your favor. You ought to have heard how he approached me about courting you! He was positively determined to argue for his case. I dare say he cares for you." His expression is teasing. </p><p>You bring your hands together and worry them. Is it suddenly ten degrees warmer in the office? "Mother said something similar. I-I am hopeful about all of this." He smiles warmly. </p><p>"You should be. It's exciting that this is less business transaction and more genuine interest. It's everything you deserve, Dearest." He looks suddenly cheeky, suspicious. "Believe it or not, the late count considered matching you with his youngest son when you were younger. Of course, he agreed to hold off on it since you were both so young, barely old enough to attend balls without supervision. Perhaps he foresaw something back then. I've heard that monsters are better matchmakers than us. Something about soul theory." </p><p>You blink, once, twice, stunned. "And you just now mention that?!" He snickers and finished his tea. </p><p>'It slipped my mind! I was reluctant to pair you off before your majority. Call it the plain man in me if you want. Most of those agreements fizzle away over the years anyways." </p><p>You reluctantly accept this reasoning. Soul theory is all interesting, but everything beyond the basics is lost to you. None of your family are mages, and your parents aren't well versed on the subject. The most your mother has told you is the etiquette about the matter and that an old acquaintance of hers told her what color her soul is. You think she said it was either blue or green. The memory is fuzzy. </p><p>"Alright, your mother should be back soon with the photographer. She'll most likely want to take pictures in the garden. I'll see you at dinner." That's your cue to exit, and you take the opportunity. </p><p>Should you do more soul research now that you're going to be betrothed to a monster? Is there something you're missing, but you don't know what? Being unprepared could backfire. Betrothal leads to marriage, and that implies you'll become a part of the court. You'll have new expectations. </p><p>There's no way you'll reject Count Aster.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Picking Daises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another letter and floriography</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I planned some more plot for this fic. Once I add more set-up the plot should move quickly. Don't get attached to the manor, loves.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyone takes a family picture in the garden, followed by a solo picture of you by the fountain. You feel antsy when it was taken, preferring to be moving or doing something productive. The Count could have sent a reply by the time it was done, and you moved to the dining hall. Dinner is a pleasant affair, marked by your mother's joyous ramblings and the smile on your father's face. He looks better now that your mother's tea had done its work. But you know it won't be able to do that forever. C'est la vie. </p><p>You retire to your rooms for the night warmed from the inside by good food, conversation, and hope. With everything as pleasant as it is, you're content. 	You hope dearly that you can meet with the count, (relatively) privately. There's much to talk about without your parents involved. Thoughts from earlier come back to you. There is research to be done as well. </p><p>Early the next morning, you go through your routine with the assistant of your handmaiden. She informs you that both of your parents are occupied, handling business and the like. There are no necessary social duties today. That means other than your studies you have a free day. </p><p>"Would you like me to arrange any plans or events for today?"</p><p>"Have a horse readied for me later this day if it is not to rain," you tell them. They incline their head. </p><p>"Of course, my lory." You hum to yourself idly. What to do for today? </p><p>"I shall make my breakfast this morning and retire to study. Has any mail come in?" </p><p>It's good practice if you marry the count. In that case, you'll move, and who knows how they run things. It's best to be prepared.</p><p>Your mother believed in teaching you life skills: sewing, cooking, medical knowledge, and more. You're fortunate to live where you do. It was your father's recommendations that gave you the skills of horseback riding, hawking, hunting, and basic self-defense. He worries. </p><p>"A messenger bird was spotted earlier in the garden, MX."</p><p>"Wonderful, thank you," you tell her. What other bird could it possibly be? You won't allow yourself to consider any other bird than Rowan. "You are dismissed. I'll call on you later if I require anything else." Your handmaiden acknowledges you and leaves. Likely for her other spare duties around the manor. </p><p>She won't be going with you when you marry, regardless of to whom. The staff is bound to the manor, not to you. In a way, you prefer it since the handmaidens are rotated every so often anyways. Now, if you marry the count you'll have a new handmaiden, regardless of any prior attachments to one. Not getting attached makes this easier. </p><p>You start to make your breakfast, a quaint meal to your tastes. There's no point in cooking more. Your parents almost never have time to eat your cooking, but you understand the cycle of things by now. They work, sometimes attend to you (since you're old enough to fend for yourself), and come home when finished. It's how it's almost always been. </p><p>When the night is dead and still, you wonder if other people get so lonely in a house of people. </p><p>Breakfast is a quick affair, hastened by your curiosity to see the garden. You leave the dishes for the staff to clean and lace your shoes up with minimal grace. Logically, you know Rowan could wait long enough for you to take your time. That doesn't stop your eagerness. The garden is pretty, as usual. Flowers bloom closest to the house. Vegetables and various other food things grow towards the back. Nearest the stables. </p><p>You spot Rowan perched on a tree limb and stride over. He flies down to a branch closest to you. "You're a rather intelligent bird, Rowan. My Colette only returns home when released." Of course, the bird says nothing, and you secure the delivered message. It's a letter from Count Aster. Rowan watches you leave the garden. You make your way to the owlery quickly, ignoring the staff you pass that offer their services to you. There's no need. Securely in the owlery, you open the letter as carefully as possible with a penknife. With the wax seal taken care of, you read the letter.</p><p>The first line is the usual greeting, more out of propriety, than anything. You ignore it in favor of what comes next. </p><p>'I am pleased to hear of your unanimous acceptance. Would three days from now be suitable at your manor? I do not think your father would like you to make the trip to my estate. I look forward to when I see you next, regardless of where and when. I hope you like what I have enclosed. Humans exchange flowers during courtship, yes? I hope you like them, as they are a color I am fond of. You would look good in a robe of the same shade, I'm sure.</p><p>Pleasantly, Count Aster.'</p><p>Tucked between the pressed edges of the letter is a flower. You do not recognize the flower immediately and seek a book on it. Fortunately, you locate one after digging through the gardening section. There are pictures, diagrams, and the meanings behind each flower on its pages. When you flip through the book, you locate the flower that the count sent. </p><p>It's a red Aster. <br/>How apt. </p><p>The symbolism could make you blush when you read it. Ah, no, you're a little warmer than usual. A red Aster. symbolizing devotion, love, and wisdom. You get the impression that red flowers can mean courage and passion, too, from the book. So, the count things you'd look good in a red robe? You refuse to believe that red being one of his family's trademark colors is coincidentally used here. </p><p>You're flattered, above all. The count sent you a pressed flower that screams 'Count Aster' and yet, is so meaningful when paired with his words. This next meeting feels promising. Without any hesitation, you open the window for Rowan and start on your reply. It's time you set things into motion. While you wait, you'll have to see if the library has any information on Monster courting practices. If the count has bothered to study up on humans, then you should return the favor. Maybe you'll send a flower, too.</p>
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